


With Her Words

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-04
Updated: 2005-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: With her words, she managed so much.





	With Her Words

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

I sit here and watch her cry, and wonder if she realises that she shouldn’t. She has no right to cry over me. Do you ever have the right to cry over someone that you murdered?

I can’t bring myself to hate her though. I’m empty now, devoid of emotion. There is no more pain where I am now, no hate… no love. No anything. Just peace. And at the moment, peace is enough. Hell, peace is the one thing that I’ve been craving ever since I met her.

She captured me with her words. The intelligence that everyone would acknowledge, but that none would love. I loved her from the minute that I saw her. Looking at me, as if I was nothing to her. As if I was nothing in general. My name commands respect. _Malfoy_. My family is royalty among our kind, and yet she didn’t care. 

She enraptured me with her words. She never seemed to be bothered by mine though. Not in all the times that I insulted her, called her a mudblood, pretended that I hated her. I had to hate her - she was everything that my family had always taught me was dirty and disgusting. Yet I couldn’t help but love her, in my own twisted way. I think that she knew.

She loved me with her words. When I finally managed to convince her that she was beautiful to me. That I loved her. That I had never wanted anything more than to be with her. When I told her that I hated my father, hated what he stood for her.

She scorned me with her words. When she saw the Dark Mark on my arm two weeks before graduation, when the Dark Lord called to me. She hated me then, and believed that I had betrayed her. And so I had. I may have hated what my father stood for, but the Dark Lord was not what he stood for. He stood for ignorance, and stupidy. She screamed at me, and went running off to Potty. Even though I loved her, I still believed that she was less than perfect. Less than pure. Less than me.

A week after graduation, the final battle occurred. I stood face to face with her, and saw the pain in her eyes as she levelled her wand at me.

She killed me with her words.


End file.
